Killing Stalking-KMS

Sangwoo Jr.

~FN: Female Name~
Warning ⚠️: All extra chapters after this will contain mentions of incest and culmination of actual incestuous sexual relationship in later chapters. DO NOT READ IF YOU'RE GONNA FREAK OUT! STOP HERE. I AM WARNING YOU.

I don't know what makes people want to be friends. I don't t know what makes people attractive to one another. I just know that I am different.

The first time I notice was when my 1st grade teacher died. I couldn't understand why everyone was so upset. I couldn't understand why everyone was crying so much. My lack of emotion made me an outcast, but all I had to do was pretend. I shed a few tears and was accepted again. Just like that.

I've been pretending ever since. Even in front of my mother...

The reason I am like this could be because of my father Sangwoo. They say psychopathy is 60% percent genetic, you know, but don't quote me on that. The truth is, I knew I was different even before I found out my father was a serial killer. I didn't find out about my father's little hobby until last year. I am not allowed to talk about him in public. My parents like this little dump of a town and want everything to be secret as much as possible.

I know that my mother hates that I look so much like him. I hate how she pretends it doesn't bother her that I have the same stare as my father. I hate hiding who I truly am. It pisses me off. If I stare at her in a way that reminds her of him, she immediately stiffens. She doesn't tell me, but I can see it. It's not like I am exactly like him. Yeah, I am just as tall as he was, strong and broad-shouldered, but I have her smile, the dimples on my cheeks too. Now my father, Bum, loves the fact that I look like Sangwoo.

To be honest, in a way, I like that I cause my mother fear. But all I have to do is laugh, make some stupid joke, and my mother is putty in my hands. She loves me too much to hate me. My father Bum too.

Gosh, now I can't stop talking about my fucking mother because of you.

She is truly beautiful, I swear. She is like a work of art. You should see the scars on her body. They are everywhere. Even on the soles of her feet. My father Sangwoo was quite the artist. I dream of the day she can tell me the stories behind each one. I want to know exactly how and with what, he did them. I doubt she would like that, though, maybe I can convince my father Bum to tell me. He is always easier to persuade.

Fuck. I wish I could make more on her skin...

I shake the thoughts away when I enter the house. The last thing I want is to enter with a boner. I slip off my dress shoes and run my fingers through my dark hair. I swing a bouquet of flowers I picked on the way here. I peek into the living room to look at my father's shrine.

"Hey pops," I greet before going into the kitchen where music plays.

My mother tosses a salad completely unaware I am inside. That's because she is not expecting me. I got let out of school early today. I sneak up behind her, tickle her sides with the flowers still in my hands. She jumps and screams and throws the tongs to the floor. I pull her and embrace her in my arms.

She hits me on the chest with soft fists, "You're going to kill me of a heart attack, Sangwoo."

"I am so sorry, momma," I apologize, trying to give her a kiss on the cheek. She refuses it by pushing my forehead back. I can't believe how small my mom is now. I let her go and hand her the flowers. "I pick these on my way here."

Her eyes brighten at the yellow daisies. "Thanks, my boy." She immediately disappears in the hall that leads to the bedrooms to find a vase.

"Where my dad?" I ask loudly so she can hear me down the hall. She returns quickly, a glass vase filled with water.

"He is at the grocery store. I was going to pick him up, but, since you are here, why don't you go? The food is nowhere near done."

"Alright," I say with a yawn, undoing my tie. I sneak a potato wedge in my mouth. Mushy heat squirts in my tongue. My mother places the vase on the granite counter and ruffles the flowers so they don't all stand on one side. I walk to her, wanting to wrap my arms around her from behind, but I think twice about it. My mother sometimes gets repulsed by my affections towards her.

"I am thinking about dyeing my hair," I say.

She turns to face me and frowns. She immediately doesn't like the idea. She gets on her toes to place her hand against my cheek. "Your hair is lovely as it is. Don't." I nuzzle against her moist hand.

I grin, "You think so?" She nods and I take her wrist to my lips. "Well if you like it, I'll leave as it is."

"Good," she says pulling away. "Now go get Bum before he begins to panic. You know he hates being in public places."

"Yeah, yeah," I say and swipe the keys from the counter. I stop and turn to her, "By the way, momma. There's a girl I like."

She turns to me excitedly, relieved eve, "Yeah? What's her name?"

"FN. She sorta looks like you." She scowls and I chuckle, "Sike."

"You are in incorrigible," she fumes. "That's not funny."

I shrug, "I learned that it's normal for people to find partners that look like their parents."

"Out," she scolds. "Your dad is waiting."

I leave laughing out of the house. I love making my mom uncomfortable.

The girl I like so much is different from all the other girls at my high school. She understands me, but she has a boyfriend she claims to be awfully in love with. It's pathetic really. He doesn't love her. Not like I do. I might get rid of him once finals are over. He is very good at math. She will come running into my arms then. I am sure.